


Marchin' On

by Diddle_Riddle



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Dick Grayson Has Issues, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Batman, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Dick Grayson, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Nightmares, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reformed Edward Nygma, Siblings, Stephanie Brown is Batgirl, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29642397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diddle_Riddle/pseuds/Diddle_Riddle
Summary: Jason and Stephanie experienced torture and they DIED. Barbara has been SHOT and she lost her mobility from the waist down. Cassandra and Damian were raised like soldiers to become WEAPONS. Bruce has been through HELL AND BACK more enough than worth mentioning.They know about trauma.Dick does not. He... doesn't have the right to consider what happened that night a 'traumatic event', compared to what his family has been through.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Edward Nygma, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Edward Nygma & Bruce Wayne, Edward Nygma & Jason Todd, Edward Nygma/Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown & Edward Nygma, Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	Marchin' On

The vigilante opened his eyes, consciousness abruptly _hit him_ like a powerful electroshock that rocked his entire body.

Woken up from the images provoked by his nightmare, the thirty-one years old stayed motionless, panting in the darkness of his bedroom whilst his heartbeat slowed down, progressively retrieved a normal rhythm.

Dick waited for his breathing to become steady again and for his heart to stop pounding furiously against his ribcage to move to the side. He turned his bedside lamp on. A much welcomed, soft yellowish light diffused; the familiar surroundings appeared around the halo induced by the stylish lamp.

He took a deep breath.

One, two...

The visions gradually dissipated, he couldn't recall any precise scene his exhausted brain inflicted him tonight. The sole remains were a confusing chaos of screams, touches, verbal accusations and the painful sensation of betrayal that left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. The cold sweat covering his tanned skin, his tousled black hair and the dark circles printed under his cobalt blue eyes attesting of another restless night, Dick stood up, his feet glided in the slippers he abandoned near the huge bed. He grabbed the top of his pajamas he had removed before going to sleep, put it back on.

If it was for a glass of water he could go to the attached bathroom at the end of the space, yet he wanted to go down in the _kitchen._ Like when he was a child and had struggles falling asleep.

How _strange_ it was, to live in Wayne Manor now, to... pretend he could replace Batman.

He was doing the _contrary_ of who he is. Wearing the very costume of the man he promised himself not to become. It's not against the 'Batman symbol', more like... a downside from his personal issues. He is not Bruce's favorite child, not Bruce's most trusted ally, he has never been Bruce's most skilled apprentice, he doesn't think like Bruce, doesn't apprehend a situation like Bruce, doesn't resist to the pressure like Bruce does, doesn't...

Dick wiped his cheeks with his right hand, then dried his wet fingers on the mellow fabric of his assorted top and trousers.

Whereas he has _no time_ for self-blaming, the nightmares weaken their host and have this nasty effect to open the doors to dark thoughts.

It wasn't even the issues related to taking the Bat mantle that left him so insecure. Sure this increased the stress, and gave him a burden of responsibilities. Still... the pang of _guilt_ that constricted his stomach was due to... the dreadful feeling of being an usurper.

Usurper of Batman's identity.

Usurper of Damian's parent figure.

Usurper of the rightful owner of this place.

Usurper of... the trauma.

He is allowed to feel stressed, but he _doesn't have the right_ to let his nightmares be triggered by his recent meeting with Catalina Flores, the first since their... 'interaction' years ago. Tarantula disappeared from both his life and the Underworld after that night, Dick tried to find her at first, without success. He gave up, moved on and pushed the memories away, in an obscure corner of his mind.

Now he suited up Batman's uniform for the past four months, and two weeks ago, Catalina, apparently well aware of _who_ is the face behind this usurped Dark Knight, confronted him. Threatened him to reveal his secret. To reveal... all his secrets.

Being in the middle of an investigation, he lacked of time to chase after her; Damian and him had parted to follow leads and counter Hush's latest fad.

Tarantula resuscitated deeper fears he assumed he overcame.

She... propelled him back to this moment and its... aftermath. He dealt with the rape the only manner he could think of: by never evoking it and trying not to pay attention to the emotional suffering it gave birth to. He made an attempt at _erasing it,_ since after all, it 'doesn't matter much'.

It _is not_ much. Nothing he should... care about, so even less a memory he would bother others with.

Jason and Stephanie experienced torture and they DIED. Barbara has been SHOT and she lost her mobility from the waist down. Cassandra and Damian were raised like soldiers to become WEAPONS. Bruce has been through HELL AND BACK more enough than worth mentioning.

They know about trauma.

Dick does not. He... doesn't have the right to consider what happened that night a 'traumatic event', compared to what his family has been through. So he didn't. He moved on, tossed it aside, never brought it up again.

At present however... all of this added up, he was stressed and the meeting re-opened older wounds.

From then he received... warnings. Small signs such as graffiti on walls that held a meaning directed at _him,_ the feeling to be _spied on_ and despite his prodigious training, not being able to find the person watching him...

_I know who you are._

This sentence seemed to follow him, he saw it everywhere lately. This one and other words such as...

_Wrong._

_Dirty little secrets._

_Fake._

This one is the worst.

He was an usurper. He was fake. _Fake._

FAKE.

"Heya Dickie!"

The joyful greeting distracted him from the self-blaming, he smiled at the occupant of the kitchen.

"Hi, Steph." he opened the fridge to extract a bottle of milk. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing 'here' in the kitchen at night or 'here' in the Manor?", the nineteen years old retorted then responded to her double question: "In the kitchen because a nightmare woke me up, I required a much-needed support from orange juice and crackers; in the Manor because I want _company_ and a big rich tasty made-in-Alfred breakfast tomorrow morning. So there, I'll squat with you guys."

Dick sat at the huge table, facing her, his glass of milk in hand.

"Eddie and Jason are outside town.", the blonde pursued, explaining why she hadn't sought comfort next to her favorite human beings / siblings of heart / teammates, instead of at the Wayne household. "Ed took a week at Hub City to hang out with his conspiracy theory-addicted pal Vic Sage; Jaybird is hunting a gang who stole from him and hides in New York. He left Gotham two days ago. I offered my help but he was in 'Grumpy Red Crime Boss Hood' mood, so... he went alone. What about you? Troubles fighting insomnia?"

"The nightmare option.", he rectified, a tab self-conscious. "Is it... normal, to have nightmares about things that happened _years ago_ while you have _other problems_ in mind?", he let out, his gaze riveted on the depths of the creamy white liquid filling his transparent glass.

Stephanie arched an eyebrow.

"Of course.", she defined bluntly. "That is the _concept_ of trauma: you relive painful memories, that come back to you more forcefully when in a difficult period. Don't tell me you just discovered this."

"I don't, I... hu... What about traumas that are _not real traumas?_ These should not... come back at all."

Batgirl addressed him a supportive smile.

"This category doesn't exist: there are no 'traumas that are not real traumas'. It's not a competition, not because someone suffered an objectively worse fate means they know about it, in opposition to someone who 'had it easier'."

"Words of wisdom you speak..."

"I know. I am exceptional, ask me if you want an advise on something: I can share an outstandingly clever opinion about _everything."_

"... Except maybe about modesty."

"Modesty is for the weak and the poor unfortunate souls who are nothing near talented enough to be considered awesome. You'd know if you were 'awesome', you _poor unfortunate soul."_

They laughed together, and went on with a friendly discussion punctuated by a trademark, energetic "Riddle me this" Stephanie formulated prior launching a riddles contest Dick engaged in willingly.

No questions, the best way to feel better _is_ a light-hearted moment with a boastful Eggplant Queen.

______________

"Hey Ed... d'you have an instant?"

Edward Nygma looked up to Batman who unceremoniously entered his flat by his American kitchen's window, and removed his cowl he placed on the countertop. Visibly keen on taking a _break,_ he got rid of his gloves, boots and utility belt.

Fine by him, Eddie has nothing against unexpected visitors. He gestured for Dick to join the open space of the living room.

"As you may notice, I am slumped on my couch, watching Desperate Housewives and eating a pot of ice cream like some cliché of a high schooler in the middle of a 'teen angst attack'. I _have_ an instant."

"What happened to you?", Dick jeered, amused by the scene. "A few years ago I would have asked 'what has Crane done this time?', but I take it it's not Spooky Scary Skeleton's fault you feel depressed tonight?"

"Nope, still it _is_ a relationship problem. I broke up with Daniel Dreiberg this afternoon."

Dick made himself at home: he seized a spoon, sat on the large sofa to steal a bit of the mint and chocolate chips ice cream.

Yes, the former Riddler eats _green ice cream._ Jason never missed an occasion to tease him during summer when Eddie orders his favorite combo: mint with chocolate chips and blackcurrant. What a _coincidence_ his favorite flavors match green and purple ice creams.

"I'm sorry it didn't work with Nite Owl.", he commented, bringing a spoonful of ice cream to his mouth.

"Don't be. He was a jerk, I'm better off without another creepy, odd and potentially dangerous boyfriend."

"... I would be lying if I said that surprises me: you _only_ fall for violent weirdos."

Ed batglared at him.

"Way to speak of Bruce."

"He _fits_ within the category."

They both chuckled.

"What is it, circus boy?", Edward redirected.

"I... Don't make fun of me. I know it's... dumb."

"It isn't if it impacts you, and if you take the time to pay me a visit to chat about it."

One week after his nocturnal encounter with Stephanie at the Manor, Dick decided to... do something about the nightmares. Ed was back in Gotham City, he never left long even when going on missions or spending time with his contacts outside town. Knowing his backstory, without a doubt the twenty-nine years old _is_ well-placed to listen and answer questions linked to... this kind of assault.

"I... met someone who hurt me in the past.", Dick revealed thereupon, his voice coming out weaker than he planned. "I didn't think I'd confront her ever again. I saw her yesterday, asked her what she wanted. She... let me foresee she has 'something from me' she will introduce in near future. Albeit I am not... sure why she returned, she knows who I am.", he anticipated the inquiry. "She knows the current Batman is a fake."

Ed had put back his ice cream pot on the low table, and now eyed the slightly older man intensely.

"You are not a 'fake Batman'.", he disabused him right away. "You were the best candidate to ensure a transition while Bruce is away."

Dick frowned.

"Edward, Bruce is..."

"Unable to assure his job for now.", the detective complemented.

His light green eyes shone with a mischievous sparkle as he appended:

"Do you _honestly_ believe Bats could be dead?"

"... Tim thinks he is. Barbara and Kate as well. Damian has a... peculiar relation to death, he simply thinks Bruce is 'off' and will return when the world will need him. Surely that comes from his education, he doesn't see death as a permanent condition. As for Cassandra... she wouldn't have left the town, the country even, for _months_ and passed on her Batgirl mantle if she believed he will come back."

"Cassandra doesn't know him like I do. Neither do _any of you._ Take a leap of faith, Birdie the First. I _promise you_ Bruce Wayne is not dead."

Dick smiled slightly. Jason and Stephanie think the same, clearly so does Alfred. They are... convinced his former mentor takes a temporary break from the vigilante life, not a break from... life itself.

They are true believers.

"... Steph, Jay or you should be the ones wearing his cape and cowl."

"Not yet.", Edward grinned like the Cheshire cat. "It's too soon."

His smug expression reflected the typical message of I-possess-all-the-knowledge-and-you-are-an-ignorant-fool. Dick's smile boardened.

"Who is this woman?", Edward whispered thereafter.

"An... ex-girlfriend who behaved like a psychotic abuser."

"Then you knocked on the right door! I am an _expert_ in matter of crazy exs who have been emotionally, physically and everything 'else-lly' abusive."

Dick shook his head fondly.

"You have such a _way_ with words. I..."

He paused, not knowing how to phrase it adequately.

"How did you get over the... abuse at Arkham?"

"In which field?", Ed replied as if they discussed the weather. "Drugs, beating sessions, experimental treatments, injections, sexual abuse or the habitual humiliations?"

"... Sexual field.", he picked, awfully embarrassed. "I... don't know many persons in my close circle who have experience in this, I... hu... it's not to sound inquisitive or dismissive or anything... if you..."

"You want to talk about Tarantula?"

"How did you..."

"It's my _job_ to know everything about everyone. Both when I was the Riddler and now as an upgraded Detective version. I may have dropped the domino mask and some of my previous methods, I keep lots of contacts and tricks to gather informations from the Underworld. Besides I _was_ the Riddler during your encounters with Flores and the... twisted way you two parted. It made some noise, like _every time_ a villain and a hero bang."

The redhead exposed this as if it was _normal,_ not at all _questionable_ and / or _sketchy._

Dick played along:

"Then you guys were probably debating about Bruce and his multiple adventures with rogues _all the time."_

"Yup! Moreover, Selina and I have never been selfish when it comes to give overexaggerated _details_ about Bats' kinks."

"... Batman has _kinks?"_

"He goes out at night dressed in microfiber and kevlar, has an aesthetic making him resemble a flying rat, talks in a deep low voice and sneaks up behind people's back. Not to add his constant power play based on _fear._ I dated the self-proclaimed 'God of Fear' for years, I know a thing or two there. You need more?"

_"No thanks."_

They smiled.

Dick felt at ease enough to broach an element which bothered him particularly:

"Is it... regarded as 'rape' when you know the person?"

"If what happened is not consensual, then of course it is. When it's from someone you know, depending on the case you can also label it emotional abuse, if the person took advantage of you knowing you won't refuse to obey them."

"Is that how you call your... hu..."

Eddie shook his head no.

"Do not compare us on this. Contrary to me you are not a masochist, you wouldn't... get the difference between some _rough_ but consensual activities and plain abuse. Sometimes even I couldn't... spot the frontier between the two. Still, except maybe at a few occasions with James Gordon Junior, I won't call my 'boyfriends' rapists. I leave this to half the Arkham staff, opponents in the business and... random Gotham citizens a little while ago."

He didn't specify 'when I was a street kid freshly arrived in town after I ran away from home, during my years before becoming the Riddler'. No need to, Dick knew his file by heart.

"What else echoes like a moral problem in your bird brain?"

Not highlighting the sarcasm, Dick announced straightforwardly:

"Catalina is a woman. And I'm a man."

"Thanks for this perspicacious biology lesson.", the younger one jested. "I wonder what other astonishing _breaking news_ you are about to unveil."

"If it happened reversal, I'd..."

"A man can get abused by a woman.", Edward discarded his teasing for the time being, to rather step in the shoes of a _therapist._ "Even though statistically speaking, rape is reported more often from a man to a woman or from a man to a younger man, _all_ scenarios exist. I must say, I keep worse memories from 'sessions' with women doctors at the asylum than with others."

"That's just because you are gay, so on top of being non-con it must have felt... unnatural to you. If I was molested by a man, I guess it would... hurt more than if the same aggression came from a woman. No offense."

"None taken.", the ginger shrugged. "This being said, you _are_ dumb if you think a woman can't take advantage of a man. And you are even _more dumb_ if you assume locking what happened away in your mind and not caring about it is a suitable technique to heal from it. I'm a detective.", he added before Dick inquired how he deduced that last part. "Who dated and is friends with psychiatrists, plus spent enough years surrounded by mad doctors to make valid behavioral analyses. Not to remind, I am a total mess myself: I easily recognize fellow wrecks."

"... How can you make something objectively sad and a hint depressing sound _funny?!"_

"I have a gift.", he winked at him.

Eddie stood up, took a few steps toward the kitchen and stored his mint ice cream in the freezer.

"Wanna eat something?"

"I'd like juice if you have."

"Sure. Choose an option: orange, apple, multifruit, or that surprisingly tasty cucumber-apple-kiwi thing Vic enjoys so much."

"I'll go for multifruit."

Dick relaxed as he heard him rummage in his kitchen to fetch chocolate and caramel cookies then serve two glasses of fruit juice.

"There's a rumor that circulated at some point.", he mentioned, coming back to the living room and placing the tray on the low table. "About a spider having a child from the original bird she caught in her web."

Dick's throat went dry. Tarantula _insinuated this_ over the previous days, nonetheless he wished it was no more than... bluff.

"Is it... could it be... true?"

"I don't know."

"... I hoped you would."

 _This_ counted among what he wanted to ask Edward.

"I'll investigate if you want. But Dick?"

"Yes?"

"I am only _pretending_ I know everything. I never owned all the keys."

They shared a sweet smile.

"It figures in the nightmares.", Ed disclosed. "When everything mixes up together and the result is reminiscient of a fear toxin injection, when I am on the verge of a breakdown. The beatings, the degrading names, the illegal experiences, the cuts, the burns... the sexual abuse joins. Everything seems more... vivid."

"Does it get re-activated when you... see people who hurt you?"

"Sometimes. There as well nevertheless, there are _gradations._ It depends on the harm caused, the shared history, and the potential relation at present. You punched me and locked me in an insane asylum, I was barely a pre-teen when we met, yet you are free to come and go at my places and ask for therapy. Same goes for most of you bats-and-birds. It's different for Steph and Jay, they are _my_ little sister and brother. And Bruce! If I held against him the blows, broken bones and regular insults at my intellect, I'd consider him a _sworn enemy_ in place of a good friend / long-time crush / eternal fantasy subject."

"You _really_ had to say the last one?"

"I had to."

They laughed together.

It wasn't long afterwards, for someone else to arrive, by the living room's main window he closed back behind him. The intruder immediately removed his jacket and hood, acknowledged Dick via a growl, washed his hands in the kitchen sink then headed for the couch, slouched on it, gripped Edward like a rag doll and buried his face in his shirt at the level of his left shoulder.

"Hey there Jaybird.", Eddie smiled, his hand automatically raised to stroke the fluffy dark hair. "How did your mission go?"

A muffled grunt answered.

"Can I at least know if you are hurt?"

"M'fine.", he moved his head to the side to grumble. "People suck. I hate everyone. What is the golden retriever doing on your couch?"

"Taking his dose of therapy.", Edward informed him. "Apparently more and more people recognize my talents in the area."

Jason buried his face back into Ed's shoulder.

Dick smiled a bit. It always amused him dearly to witness how Stephanie, Jason and Edward interact and show their... unique affection. Right now, Jay looked like a grumpy kiddo clinging to his big bro to forget about the rest of the world.

"There is no magical remedy.", Edward said then, stroking Jay's hair, giving a special attention to the white streak inherited from the Lazarus pit. "No cure to get better, no solution to fight the nightmares off. However I know what I talk about: the first step into trying to recover is to _acknowledge_ you've been a victim. It doesn't matter that there are worse fates elsewhere. Be kind to yourself, _allow_ yourself to say you've been mistreated and react in consequence."

"I shall remember this."

Jason looked up at last.

"What happened to you?"

"... Just having a bad time coping with stress coming from... various sources."

"Same.", Jaybird mumbled. "Steph and I _are_ stressed to see you as Batman. We took bets over how quickly you'll ruin things. This aside... there's a reason why you do _what you do._ It's because you _can,_ while most couldn't."

Dick would have replied to the heartwarming compliment if it wasn't for Jay who changed the topic and addressed to Edward:

"I forced too much on the forearms. No cuts or breaks, but a pretty bad shock when I caught myself. I guarantee some people will _regret_ they crossed paths with me."

"In order: first, no wonder you 'forced too much', you are far too reckless, _every time_ and when engaging in anything.", Eddie had recourse to his 'mom voice' to lecture the blue-eyed rebellious twenty-three years old. "Second, if it's a shock then I can offer a massage and I'll check the extent of damage. Last but not least, give me a _list_ so that I will track those persons down and make sure their lives morph into a living Hell as punishment for raising a hand on you. Everything I do now is _at minimum_ partially legal. Well, as 'legal' as it can be in our beloved, rotten to the core city, plus as 'legal' as the bats construe this term. That is to say, by having your own very personal definition of what one can and cannot do.", he asserted for Dick in order to avoid a reproach in this domain. "In matter of justice, I've gone _straight."_

The older one smiled, appeased although aware most of the work he has to do now will be... internal. As a self, inside study to, slowly but surely, assist _himself_ in the process of getting better. There is nothing selfish in this goal, he comforted in his mind. Nothing wrong with helping oneself.

He must shed light on the Tarantula affair and everything tied to it. Like in any case, he could rely on his allies to give him a hand when it comes to sort elements, collect clues and unearth what words are lies from what assumptions are true.

Dick stood up from the comfy leather couch.

"I'll investigate, we keep in touch to clear this case.", Edward pledged alongside a tranquil nod. "And if you need longer or more dedicated exchanges to calm down or soothe the tension, my non-existent-yet-highly-active consulting room aka my detective agency office or my living room is constantly open, people come and go like it's a public place. I could invest in locks and secured systems, it wouldn't change a thing: bats-and-birds enter whenever they want."

With an optimal synchronization, Batgirl bursted in, in full costume, and closed back the living room's main window behind her.

"What was I saying?", Eddie jested, his palms turned up to face the ceiling in a –traditional from him– overdramatic show of 'look at me being 100% right'.

"Dickie!", the blonde girl rejoiced. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing 'here' in the living room or 'here' at Edward's?", he mirrored; the two shared a knowing smile.

"Stay with us?", Stephanie prompted before he went on with the initiated gesture to grab his things, put the bat-cowl on and leave, firing of his grapple hook to vanish into the night. "Let's have a funny evening!"

"I could go for fun.", Ed brought the conversation to himself when he complained in a fakely _pitiful_ voice: "I am a bachelor again."

"Oh, Dreiberg dumped you?", Jason mocked, he moved to lean against the backrest of the couch instead of the redhead's plain green shirt.

 _"I_ dumped _him.",_ he corrected with a played vexed expression. "Why do you always assume it's the other way around?!"

"Blame it on the habits.", Jaybird patted Eddie on the head... like he would with a grouchy kitten. "Can't help it, Ginger."

The two engaged in a friendly bickering that soon got concluded by giggles, until Steph decided they'll play games over the evening continuation.

Dick fully relaxed. Red Hood and Batgirl showered successively; they traded their antiheroes uniforms for comfy interior clothes. Batman did the same as he stole a pair of Jason's pajamas. Doing so, he attested once more Jay and Steph have _everything_ at the detective's apartment, including bedrooms furnished with their stuff, what proves they stop by more often than they sleep at each their place, Jason in his studio and Stephanie at her mother's.

"This is not quite therapy, but having fun is an efficient distraction."

"I agree.", Dick validated whilst Ed set up the rectangular low table for a board game.

"Nobody will judge you because you have doubts and suffer from pressure.", the young genius reinforced. "Take it from me: it's alright to be a bit of a mess."

"In this flat right now, we are a group of absolute _wrecks.",_ Jason scoffed, coming back from the kitchen with a box of sweets. "You're probably the healthier, 'Bat'."

"Speak for yourself.", Stephanie retorted smugly. "I am perfect."

"The two aren't incompatible.", Edward smirked. "Look at me."

They laughed some more.

Dick will see later about the rest, for now... he'll have a great time. He approved the prospect of having fun, acknowledging himself, focusing on getting better.

It's common to live with trauma, especially in this line of work. He simply has to make his peace with the fact less damaged or not, he _is_ just as much as a wreckage as the other persons in his close circle.

And that's okay.


End file.
